


Despite My Better Nature

by Ollie_Mor



Series: The Spawn of Hades [1]
Category: Hades (Video Game 2018)
Genre: Ares has strong hugging arms, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mentioned Zagreus (Hades Video Game), Soft Ares (Hades Video Game), don't know the difference but okay, that will become a real tag or so help me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-12 23:01:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29268405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ollie_Mor/pseuds/Ollie_Mor
Summary: Young Melinoë ran through the dank bricked chambers of Tartarus, her tears fogging her mismatched eyes. She felt the flames licking up her leg and arm as she tried desperately to escape it: her guilt.
Relationships: Ares & Melinoe, Melinoe & Persephone
Series: The Spawn of Hades [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2186334
Kudos: 15





	Despite My Better Nature

**Author's Note:**

> This includes Melinoë! I have her as the daughter of Hades instead of that rat bastard Zeus because mythology is my city now. 
> 
> [Here](https://yallemagne.tumblr.com/post/641607172404510720/this-is-my-oc-for-hades-meet-melino%C3%AB-daughter-of) is my art of her. She is older in the art than this story and may have different hair at this point in her life, but eh. 
> 
> In this story, she is physically and mentally about ten years of age.

Young Melinoë ran through the dank bricked chambers of Tartarus, her tears fogging her mismatched eyes. She felt the flames licking up her leg and arm as she tried desperately to escape it: _her guilt._

Painful images flashed in her head of her mother recoiling away, shielding a burn wound from her fiery touch. The tears that pricked at the corners of the Queen's eyes washed over the godling's form and filled her with contrition.

What else could Melinoë's traitorous touch do after betraying her and harming her own mother? Could it kill? Could her scrambling limbs singe and scorch her brother's flesh next he tried to carry her through the house? Could the flames pick up in the dead of night- or day, setting her sheets ablaze and suffocating her with smoke?

Nightmarish visions plagued her eyes and revealed that, yes, her touch could do all those things and more.

She was unable to achieve a great enough distance from her fears before she tripped and fell. Sniffling on the cobbled floor, she buried her face in the crook of her elbow, trying to block out the light created by her fiery limbs. Grief fell upon her form like a hungry hound, and she was too distracted by it to notice a chime followed by the screams of men.

"Ah... you are not my kin..."

She blenched and looked up to the source of the voice. Silhouetted in red was a tall, imposing figure. The man's dark skin clashed dramatically against the whites and golds of his armour.

The stranger hummed. "Or am I wrong? You share the same features as Prince Zagreus." There was a stripe of white crossing his face, ghostly and comforting. It reminded the godling of her blanched limbs. His eyes were scarlet like her father's, though the sclera was white, and his pupils appeared nonexistent.

Melinoë sniffed as she pulled herself onto her knees and wiped her tears away with her arm. "Th-that's my brother... are you one of our cousins?"

The Olympian – _no doubt that he was one_ –regarded the child with intrigue before slowly materializing before her, becoming as tangible as the ground she still knelt upon. "Yes. May I ask of your name?" He offered the godling his hand, which she reluctantly accepted with a white hand, allowing him to pull her onto her feet.

The girl, not understanding why an Olympian wouldn't know her name, answered after a moment of hesitation. "Melinoë..."

A flash of recognition passed over the god's face. She knew that he had to have known. Hermes made sure that the Olympians were updated regarding business in the Underworld now that it is a place of such great interest. "And are you aware of who I am?"

She didn't have the coyness to pretend to wrack her brain. "Lord Ares?"

"That is right. Now, is there any reason for your current distress? Are you following your brother in his attempts to escape?"

Melinoë shook her head. "No... I'd die on the surface." That was what Zagreus told her... Her mother reminded her of this when she asked her to bring her along not a bit ago.

"Then why have you come to accept a favour from me?"

The godling's mismatched eyes widened. Oh no... that was why Ares was here... Zagreus needed blessings for his job. Had she ruined that, too? "I didn't mean to!" she cried.

"That leaves me more wounded than before," Ares remarked, but Melinoë didn't sense the levity in his tone.

The girl gasped. "Sorry! I didn't mean to offend you either! I- I was running, and I didn't see- I tripped," she pointed back at the inconvenient ledge that her foot had caught on, "and I fell into something!" That something being Ares' blessing. How had Melinoë not seen the tell-tale red glow that Zagreus had told her about? Perhaps she had and mistook it for fire. Either way, the memory of what plagued her just mere moments ago was left behind in the presence of family.

"Ah." There was a tint of amusement to his voice, something the girl, in her anxious state, didn't pick up on. "Yes, that makes sense."

Melinoë deflated, her gaze restricted to the ground. "I'm sorry."

A large hand came forth and tapped her chin. She met her Olympian cousin's unreadable gaze. "Further apologies are unneeded, my kin. I require only to know what has you in such a state of distress. What is it that you were running from?"

"Guilt."

 _"Guilt?"_ His tone fell somewhere between amused and bemused, but he was gracious enough to humour her. "Guilt for what, my kin?"

"I hurt Momma," she answered, her expression grim.

"How so?"

"My hand..." Melinoë extended her blackened arm for Ares to look at. When he brought a hand forth to touch it, she jerked her hand back. "It burns," she warned. "I was upset that Momma was leaving again, and I burned her on accident."

"So, you have run away to avoid the consequences? Do you fear invoking your mother's or perhaps your father's wrath?"

That certainly wasn't it. Why, if it weren't for Zagreus' stories, Melinoë would be convinced that their father experienced no wrath. " _No._ Momma and Dad would've forgiven me if I stayed." She could still hear her mother calling out to her: _Melinoë, dear, it's okay!_

"Do you worry they'll be less forgiving after you absconded?"

"I don't know..."

Ares scowled at the lack of certainty, and the atmosphere intensified. "That is an insufficient answer, my kin."

The terseness of his tone frightened her to tears. "I didn't want to see Momma wrapping up a wound that was my fault! I don't want her to hate me and- and never come back- I want Momma to keep loving me!"

The Olympian hummed and kneeled before her, still leagues taller than her on his knees. Carefully, he raised a hand and, when she didn't recoil, swiped a thumb over her teary cheeks. "In truth, you still dreaded the consequences of your actions. You despair at the thought of witnessing the injury that you have caused."

Melinoë didn't know what to say, so she just nodded as her lips trembled.

"You are aware of my domain, aren't you, fair Melinoë?"

The godling nodded once more.

"And as Princess of this realm, you understand the havoc my domain wreaks, yes? Answer with your words, my kin."

Melinoë stopped herself in the middle of a third nod and instead asserted: "Yes. You're the God of War."

"Good." Despite his praise, his gaze beseeched her to continue.

"And people get hurt because of war - more than hurt - they die and come here."

"Correct."

"That doesn't ever... make you feel bad?" _Bad_ was such a childish word, but Melinoë was not mature enough to know the words she truly meant. _Defective, deplorable, profane..._ cruel and unable to bring anything pleasant to the world.

Ares gleaned her meaning if the look he regarded her with said anything. " _My,_ how even the youth are not exempt from melodrama," he mused. "Despite my family's harshest efforts, no. More than death, battle brings about victory and growth. It is where adolescents find their maturity. Mortalkind is drawn to glory as a moth is to a flame." His manner of speaking was stifled like he was suppressing his praise for his own aspect. Still, something was intimate and lyrical about the veneration he spoke of himself with. It was captivating. Melinoë wished to know how it felt.

War hurt, but it had its purpose, that enough made sense... No, there was no but about it. Ares could not be separated from grief and death and agony. Notwithstanding, he admired his own carnage. There was ultimately beauty in the misery he brought. However, Melinoë was not War. "But... what if you hurt someone you really care about?"

A sudden burst of anguish coloured her cousin's eyes, but it didn't remain. "In some instances, you will be forced to. Remember your brother's feud with your lord father. Pain is crucial to existence. However, it is your job to exercise restraint. Hone your craft until you hold command over your strength." Ares seemed to not only speak from experience but like he'd given this talk before. He stroked her pale cheek, looking down at her reverently.

The godling leaned into the touch, just a bit. "So, instead of not using my hand... I should use it _more._ " She frowned down at her burning hand, though her trepidation was replaced with newfound determination. "I should master it."

Ares' lips curved into a smile that was sharp as the blades sheathed across his back. "Yes. You are an intelligent child, my kin. I see much potential when I look upon you."

Melinoë smiled shyly. "Thank you, Lord Ares. You're kind."

The Olympian gave a thoughtful hum. "Rare is it for me to receive such a compliment."

_"Melinoë!"_

The godling in question and the Olympian stiffened at the distant call.

"It's Momma," Melinoë breathed. "She's here to retrieve me."

"Then, it appears I best be on my way."

The girl pouted and grasped the god's hand, not realizing it was with her smouldering hand that she grabbed. "Maybe that's why no one says you're kind. You run away afterwards and don't take the credit."

The God of War regarded her touch with a smirk. It seemed that she had more control of it than she let on. "Is that it, my kin?"

Melinoë followed his gaze and gasped, tearing her hand away. She expected to find his flesh marred with her fingerprints, but she was dumbfounded to see no damage left in her wake. A grin crept across her features as she looked up at her cousin.

Ares chuckled before absconding, leaving the echo of a rallying warcry in his wake.

"Melinoë!"

The godling spun around and found her mother standing several paces away from her. "Momma." The tears she'd forgotten about came back with a vengeance.

"Oh, my dear Melinoë," Persephone gasped as the girl ran towards her and threw herself into her arms. "Thank _goodness,_ you're okay..."

"I'm sorry, Momma... I'm sorry..." she cried into her mother's dress.

"Meli, it's perfectly alright, darling. You didn't burn me too terribly, and even if you had, everything would still be okay."

"No, I..." Melinoë lifted her head from the bunched fabric, meeting her mother's eyes. "It isn't that. I'm sorry for running away... making you and Dad worry..." she trailed off, looking down. "I knew you'd forgive me for hurting you."

The woman smiled gently at her daughter, wiping away her tears. "That's sweet of you, dear. I will tell you that your father and I were definitely worried. He was ready to send a search team after you the moment you disappeared from sight."

The information was meant as a divertissement, but it only served to draw more guilt out of the girl. "I'm sorry... I was being selfish," she whimpered, trembling now.

The Queen cooed softly, combing through her daughter's two-toned hair with her fingers. The trembling ceased, but meanwhile, Melinoë kept a tight, wrinkling grip on her mother's skirt. "Melinoë, you are allowed to exit a situation if it overwhelms you. I'd prefer you fleeing to your room, perhaps, but that is something we can work on, yes?"

The godling nodded. "I didn't want to stay and watch you bandage your arm."

"I still haven't, dear. I may not have to. You only held my wrist for a moment, Meli."

"I've changed my mind, though."

"You have?"

Melinoë unburied her face from her mother's skirt, looking into her grass-green eyes. "I want to help," she said solemnly, not understanding the hilarity of the statement or why it made her mother laugh. Even still, she loved that laugh. It was the chiming of a bell before something truly delightful happened.

"You'd like to bandage my arm?"

Melinoë nodded.

"Oh, sweetheart, of course." The Queen of the Underworld bent down to pick up her daughter, smiling. "We'll do that. Let's return to the house so your father can stop making a fuss."

The girl giggled as she breathed in the scent of pomegranates and asphodels. Her blackened arm had calmed from a sizzling heat to a low smoulder, but she couldn't help but tuck the limb against her chest, keeping it away from her mother even when she knew that she could control it. Call it silly, but Melinoë would turn to ash if she was proven wrong.

The godling considered telling her mother about Ares. She pondered the repercussions that could arise from an Olympian – _however unobtrusively_ – acquiescing into the Underworld and comforting the daughter of Hades. She giggled again. Putting it that way made the whole affair seem more scandalous, like the very marriage of her parents was.

"What's so funny, Meli?" her mother asked, traces of her smile tinting her voice.

She wanted to answer: _I made a friend, Momma!_

Instead, she spoke: "I'm happy, Momma." And it was true, but it wasn't the full truth. There was something so devious about leaving out details, but she couldn't deny the joy she felt when her mother's face didn't grow concerned as she knew it would otherwise.

"Happy about what, my darling girl?"

Melinoë beamed before telling her mother of her schemes. She was going to master her limbs so they'd never burn someone against her will again. Not only that, but she'd also use her infernal arm and leg to protect others. The name Melinoë would be whispered with hesitance in the pits of Tartarus. The wretches wouldn't _dare_ touch Zagreus, knowing his sister would be out for their heads.

Persephone laughed at her daughter's plotting. "Your brother would love that, Meli. Your father would be irritated at you making Zagreus' job easier, though."

"Dad wouldn't get _too_ angry, though," the godling countered.

The goddess hummed, and the sound buzzed pleasantly in Melinoë's ears. "Of course not, never with you; on the contrary, he'd be so proud, as am I."

"Proud of what, Momma?"

" _You._ I'm so proud of your bravery, Meli. What a warrior you are," the Queen mused, giving her grinning daughter a small tap on the nose.

 _A warrior..._ Melinoë liked that.


End file.
